After the Adventure
by WybourneObsessed
Summary: The story always ends with a kiss. After the Other Mother is defeated, Coraline and Wybie have fallen in love, and that's it. But what happens between the first kiss and their marraige? Fights, tears, confessions, broken bones, new friends, and more.
1. First Date

**A/N: So, here's the deal. I took down Lovely Buttons and Run Away. Because, I know how it is to have no inspiration. I swear, sometime I will re-write them. But I just need some time. Right now, this story is going to be one-shots after everything that happens after the adventures and buttons and danger. Enjoy~**

**-\F I R S T _ D A T E/-**

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"I-I'm so nervous, Cat." the eleven-year-old boy stuttered, nervously straightening the tie his Grandmother had forced onto him, clarifying sternly that 'boys like you don't need to be datin' this young, but if you really want to impress the girl, you have to look your best.'

He hadn't even attempted to tame his wild mass of copper-colored curls, so they sprung out all around his head untidily. He had, however, managed to remove and debris that had gotten stuck in the past two weeks. That peppermint took out a small clump of tangles with its escape.

The skinny black cat with sapphire blue eyes that was curled up on his bed purred in amusement, flicking his tail lazily as the boy tried to tie his shoes with shaky hands.

"I can't do this. What if she laughs at me?" he mumbled, turning around to face the feline. He shook his head at him, and Wybie sighed.

"Wish me luck, bud," he said, patting his head and grabbing the box that contained a blue rose for his freshly-acquired "girlfriend."

whenever he even _thought _of the word "girlfriend," Wybie's hands would get as wet as the sidewalk on a regular Oregon day, and his eye had this strange habit of twitching. He had also fainted once, when Coraline had introduced him to her friends at school, using the word "boyfriend." He had woken up at the nurse's office, a cool icepack resting on the bump on his head, and a worried blue-haired-girl smirking at him with her arms crossed.

Wybie gulped, cleared his throat, and slowly made his way downstairs. Miss Lovat waited at the bottom, smiling proudly at his appearance. Dark blue sweater under a black vest, and a dark blue tie to match.

He wore a pair of black jeans, (not rolled up at the ankles) and his classic too-big-for-his-feet green tennis shoes. His Grandmother kissed the top of his head and squeezed him half to death. He smiled and returned the hug, much more gently.

"You treat that Coraline girl well, you hear me?" she said. He nodded.

"Yes, Gramma."

"You better be home by ten o' clock, too."

Wybie rolled his eyes. "yes, Gramma." He kissed leaned up and kissed her cheek. "Love you."

"I love you, too." she replied, giving him another embrace.

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

"Wybie... This is beautiful!" exclaimed Coraline, holding the rose close to her. He rubbed his neck chuckling.

"I-it's nothing, Jonesy."

The girl looked away from him, up at the moon. "I remember the Other Wybie throwing me a rose..."

"Oh?" he said. "I remember you telling me that. She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Yeah, you've done a good job remembering from then."

"It's only been a year."

"It seems like a day."

"I know how you feel." They were up on the Hill, their own private sanctuary. It was a meadow covered in soft blades of grass and wildflowers, and you could see all of Ashland's woods and the town lights in the distance. It was the perfect place for a first date, in Wybie's opinion. Coraline agreed.

"It's so beautiful up here..." she breathed quietly, picking a purple flower and twirling it between her fingers.

"I found this place thanks to Cat," Wybie said, smiling. "He ran off one time while I was hunting for a spider and I followed him up here. This was the place where I found my first banana slug."

"Really? What'd you name him?" Coraline asked.

"I was about five, then. I named _her _Mustard."

"...It was a girl, and you named her Mustard?"

Wybie chuckled quietly and pulled Coraline closer. "Well, I found her here. Do you think any guy banana slugs would like the flowers? Too bad Cat had to go and eat her."

"I bet she tasted like ketchup."

They both laughed, and continued to stare up at the stars in the sky, until Wybie cleared his throat.

"Um... Jonesy?" _Just do it!_

"Hm?"

"W-well... I.. wanted to... erm..." _Be a man! Come on! _

"...Yeah?"

_Stop stuttering! _

_Get your eye to stop twitching!_

_Don't faint – deep breaths. _

Slowly, he reached down and pulled off the glove on his left hand, revealing three white scars running from his knuckles to his wrist.

"R-remember what happened there?"

Coraline scoffed. "Of course I do. What are you getting at, Why-be-born?"

"Well... I want you to always remember." Wybie took the girl's pale, small hand into his and slipped the skull-patterned glove onto her fingers. There were stitches that sealed up the slices where the metallic hand had swiped into the fabric. The girl looked at the boy, who stared soberly into her hazel eyes.

"You want me... to keep this?"

"Always."

Coraline licked her lips slowly, flexing her fingers, testing out the fitting of the glove.

"As long as I can wash it." She smiled. He smiled back, holding his now bare hand in hers.

"Of course. As long as you promise to wear it."

"Forever, you dork."

Wybie will never forget this moment as long as he lived. Coraline gave him a sly grin, reached up, and kissed his lips with a gentle fervor that he copied with passion.

She entwined his left hand in her's, and pulled back. Wybie could still taste her lips. They tasted like cotton candy, and strawberry lip gloss. He gave her a goofy grin.

"This makes you my partner in crime." he said.

"Oh, God, two village stalkers?" she groaned.

"No, two troublemakers." his smile turned devilish, and she raised an eyebrow.

"That's more like it."

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**A/N: So... Like it? Love it? Hate it? Can't stand CoralineXWybie? Well, don't worry, this story won't have just fluff. It'll have angst. **

…

**this is the part where you all go "YAY, ANGST" by the way.**

**I hope you liked the first chapter! Tune in sometime soon for the next!**

**~.~.~W.y.b.o.u.r.n.e_O.b.s.e.s.s.e.d~.~.~**


	2. Camp Out

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait! Gah, I can never find inspiration! It irks me. :l This chapter's in Wybie's POV, because I love writing it that way. **

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**C.a.M.p O.u.T**

"Ow, ow, owww!"

"Oh quit being a baby."

"But it hurts!"

I winced as my friend- or should I call her girlfriend? -picked out another thorn from my arm. I had accidentally raced my bike into the Jones' new rosebush in the garden while trying to be a show-off and got a face-full of thorns. Even though I think Mr. and Mrs. Jones are more concerned with their now ruined thorn-bearer than the blood that's dotting up around every small point where the thorns embedded themselves.

"Owwww..." I moaned.

"Shut up," was Coraline's reply. So much for compassion.

"I think we'll need more than just a few band-aids." I mumbled, taking off my glove and picking a thorn from my hand.

"Why weren't you wearing your jacket?" she asked. I sighed.

"Gram said she had to wash it," I replied, putting my hands on my hips and doing my impression of her. "She said 'Boy, you get more mud on you than one of them four-wheeled-drives.'" She snorted in laughter, which I countered with a grin.

"Wow. Well, you look weird without it."

"Tell me about it," I said, yelping as she pulled out the final thorn. I looked like I had the chicken pox – small red pricks of blood bubbled up from the place where those stupid pointed flower-protectors had been. I stood there, trying not to move. It hurt when I did.

"Come on," Coraline said, grabbing my hand and softly leading me to her house. Once inside, she went on a mission for the band-aids while I sat at the table and wiped of the small amount of blood with a dish towel. I felt a little queasy. Blood is _not _my thing. I only watch horror movies with Jonesy because she loves them so much.

"Sooo..." she mused, voice muffled by the inside of the cabinet as she searched. "What do you think we should watch tonight? Saw, the Grudge, or Signs?"

I blinked at her, and sighed, wiping off my arm gently. "Do we have to watch horror movies? I always have bad dreams whenever I fall asleep after 'em."

"That's only because you're a wuss," she said. In fact, it seemed like every Friday night I spent with my friend was ruined by some cruel nightmare in the night. I'd wake up with sweat beading on my neck, and a craving for a glass of warm milk.

"I-I'm not a wuss! Can't we just... go outside and camp?" A distant mumble of thunder reared it's ugly head from outside, eliminating the possibility of camping out.

"Camp in a storm? Really?" said Coraline. She was smiling, though, tossing me a box of those little circular band-aids. I began to stick them on my most fierce prickles. I had lost the battle with the rosebush. But I had won the war. That thing was never going to grow back; I could hear Mel and Charlie arguing about it just outside.

"I like it!" my blue-haired girlfriend exclaimed, yanking me from the chair by my hands and spinning me around. "Camping in the rain! We could tell ghost stories all night!"

Did I mention I _loved _ghost stories? As long as there wasn't any blood involved in them, I'd listen to those documentaries like Ghost Hunters and checked out books of them. Myths inspired me to do some of the weirdest things I've ever done. Like one time, I tried spending the night in the attic when I was six.

I ran downstairs and into Gramma's arms at three in the morning after a sleepless night of terror.

"We could see who could make the other laugh!" I smiled, spinning her around too.

"We could see who could stay up the longest!"

"We could pig out on junk food!"

"We could play in the rain!"

It was official. We would do all of those and more at our special Camp Out of Awesomess.

**A(.)T(.)A**

I cracked jokes practically every other minute, and we both laughed out heads off. We had a special stash of potato chips and Pringles and Oreo Cakesters and every chocolate bar that ever existed times three. For drinks, we had Mountain Dew, Dr. Pepper, Pepsi, and even a Monster we managed to snag past my grandmother and the Jones'.

We pigged out like crazy, and I can't say I wasn't feeling a little bit sick after two bags of Lays and two whole Hershey bars.

"What's the worst thing you've ever smelled?" Jonesy asked me. I shifted on my sleeping bag, hands on my aching belly, and raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what's the worst thing you've ever smelled? Ever! I remember smelling this one kid at school on Michigan, his name was... I think people called him Scotty the Potty."

I chuckled. "I think the worst thing I've ever smelled was myself after five days of no bathing." We both cracked up at that.

After I caught my breath I said, "How long can you hold your breath?"

"A minute!"

"No way."

"Yes way!"

"A whole minute? Prove it." I smirked. My resolve started to falter when I saw her hold her nose and gulp in a mouthful of oxygen. Looking at the watch on my left hand, I started counting.

One, two, three, four five...

Twenty-one, twenty-two...

Thirty-three... She was looking a little oxygen deprived.

Forty... She was a little blue.

Fifty-five...

Okay, now skin isn't even supposed to turn that color.

Sixty!

"Wow," I said, glancing at her as she gulped in fresh air. "Impressive."

"Thank... you..." she gasped, still getting herself some oxygen.

After that, things started to go slower.

We'd still crack jokes, ask random questions, but I was way too sick to even try to take another bite of my half-eaten Kit Kat.

I groaned, holding my stomach. I felt like I was gonna throw up three hours worth of junk food. I saw the concern in my girlfriend's features. "You okay...?" she asked.

"Dunno..." I mumbled. "I don't feel so hot..."

"If you're going to puke, you outside!" she yelled, opening the tent and sending me head-first into the wet grass and showering rain. I bent over, my hair getting soaked, my outfit getting soaked, and pressed my hands to my stomach, as if that would make me less nauseous. "Ugh..."

I groaned as my stomach played Benadict Arnold and I leaned into the grass as I hurled. The rain would wash it away at least, so Jonesy wouldn't freak out at how gross it looked. You do not want to see two Hersheys, half of a Kit Kat, three Dr. Peppers, and about four Lays mixed together.

I crawled back into the tent, wiping my mouth. "...I feel better." I murmured, even though my belly was still aching. "I think I need my pj's." She tossed me them happily and turned around as I changed. I did the same for her, and settled into my sleeping bag, ready to sleep off that stomach-ache. Coraline crossed her arms.

"What are you doing?"

"Sleeping?" I said, turning over and getting comfortable. "I don't feel good."

"We're supposed to stay up!" She pointed to her watch. "It's only three A.M."

I gave her a long yawn and moved to turn off the lantern we had between our sleeping bags. She grabbed my wrist.

"Don't you dare."

Oh, what I wouldn't give for a less violent companion.

"Whyyy?" I moaned. "I'm tired."

"Too bad." She pulled me into a sitting position. "Let's play Truth or Dare!"

I sighed. "Mkay. You go first." I settled myself back down into the sleeping bag on my elbows.

"True or dare?" Her smile was mischievous.

"Truth." She asked me if I would ever eat a bug, I said no.

"Truth or dare?" I asked blandly.

"Dare!" she boldly replied.

"Lick my foot." I stuck it in her face, laughing at her expression.

"Gross!"

"I dared youuu."

Giving me a glare, she grabbed my foot in both hands, and licked it from heel to toe. I squirmed at the feeling- wet and ticklish.

Jonesy got mad that I kept picking truth, so after a while we just decided to go onto bed. She shut off the lamp, and crawled into her sleeping bag beside me.

**A(.)T(.)A**

I awoke to a grumble of thunder and the sound of lightning crackling through the sky. I cracked an eye open as Jonesy yelped. She literally- quite literally- jumped into my arms and snuggled into my chest. I was too sleepy to object though, and too comfortable to care.

I loved my blue-haired, violent, freckled, proud, brave girlfriend.

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**A/N: I promise I'll update more often! Promise, promise, promise. Does anyone have any requests of a one-shot with these two? :D **

**A(.)T(.)A****After The Adventure/ timeskip**


	3. Operation

**A/N: Heh. This took a while, huh? Oh, well. :] Enjoy!**

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He knew who had sent the blue roses into his room the moment he laid eyes on them.

Dark, moon-light blue, like her hair.

Coraline.

Wybie's face melted into a grin when his grandmother gently set them down on the table next to his bed. "Try to guess who sent these," she laughed. He chuckled in response.

"Would it happen to be a girl named Jonesy?" Mrs. Lovat shook her head and kissed the top of his.

"You should start calling her by her real name, dear. It's Coraline."

"I know, Gramma." he looked up at her from his place on the bed. "When did the doctor say I could run around and stuff?"

Mrs. Lovat frowned, sitting next to him and running her fingers through his head of rusty curls. It had been three days since the doctors had released him from the hospital.

The steel (or metal, she had no idea what kind) rods and screws that were now snuggly screwed into his spine with such caution required at least three types of painkillers for her grandson to be numb to the searing pain of it all. The side-effects of them were just as horrid – vomiting, drowsiness, the chills. She hated seeing him like that.

But when they had taken all of it away from him so suddenly, the withdrawal was just as pitying to watch. Oh, her Wybourne. Her poor little Wybourne.

He couldn't be called little anymore though, could he? Thirteen years of age, but the height and maturity of someone half of that number. She would always be her Wybourne, but the little part would have to go. She sighed, looking down at his dark green eyes.

"It will be awhile."

"How long's awhile?" he murmured, blinking. Even with the foul-tasting opiates the doctors sent them home with, they still made him act sluggish, always wanting to either sleep or eat or go outside.

"Not long. You'll be back outside in no time at all..." She smiled lovingly when her grandson let out a small sigh of content, face relaxing into a mask of warm comfort.

"I love you, Gramma."

"I love you more, Wybourne."

He opened his eyes once again, never one to submit to the medication's subtle effects, and she knew a question was on the way.

"Why... did you let them do this?" No, it didn't sound like he resented her for it, there was no tone of blame or hostility at the state he was in; he was just _curious. _

"It was for the best. You won't regret it, honey," she patted his hand above the green blanket, realizing just how elderly she had become over the years. Days ago it seemed like she was a little girl, shrinking back into the dark doorway of the luminescent kitchen and seeing her parents wail over the loss of her twin sister. She still woke up at night with the frightening call of that door, beckoning her into a web of well-strung lies.

She glanced at her grandson again, reminiscing over with, and saw that he was peacefully asleep. His stomach rose and fell under the covers slowly. He looked just as young as he acted in his resting state.

She remembered the nights when she would come home from the bingo hall and smile at the sight of her baby Wybourne asleep on the couch, the glowing screen of the television playing his favorite late-night show and a bowl of half-eaten popcorn on the table.

There were also nights not-too-long ago when she would come home to see not only one child, but two asleep on the couch. It was that time in her young grandson's life when the cooties were no longer evident in a girl's touch, and they suddenly were judged by not how fast they could run in the races on the playground, but by how they looked and dressed.

He was only thirteen and had fallen in love with his neighbor.

Oh, she was a feisty girl, nothing like herself when she was that young, with a temper and a stance to match. There was nothing too frightening for her, nothing too adventurous. She laughed in the face of danger, even when her Wybourne cowered in front of it.

She was there every morning until eight at night when visiting hours were over, talking about all of the adventures he had missed while he was in the hospital, and how she despised the fact that the black cat could not accompany her inside to see his friend.

She was with him every step of the way, and still came by after school to see how he was feeling.

He loved that girl, and she loved him as well. It wasn't just some meaningless one-week relationship like the children at their school went through. This was full-fledged _love. _

And even if they didn't work out by the time they were in high-school, at least she knew one thing.

They would always be friends, and they would either love each other as a couple, or love each other as a brother loves his sister.

No matter how many arguments they had, no matter how many punches she landed on his left (or right) arm, they would always laugh and joke and sit together on the bus and help each other with homework or pranks.

They were the definition of best friends and love both.

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**A/N: Short, I know. D: Give me a break guys. I have other stories to write. :3**


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